


My Guiding Light

by KestrelGirl



Series: Eirwen and Lyri [1]
Category: Guild Wars 2 (Video Game)
Genre: (THE GIRLS ARE KISSIIIIIING), (at least mostly), Canon Compliant, Canon Temporary Character Death, Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, Flashbacks, Fluff and Angst, Girls Kissing, Happy Ending, Illustrations, POV Lesbian Character, Romantic Soulmates, Soulmates, Spoilers up through LWS4, Sylvari (Guild Wars)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-01-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:40:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22315708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KestrelGirl/pseuds/KestrelGirl
Summary: Romance? Romance! Gave it a try with my only established couple, and with the help of my awesome beta reader friends, my already incredibly long oneshot turned into this. If you're reading this, thank you beta readers, you rock! So, here's the tale of my commander Eirwen and her dearheart Lyri. They're both, for once, cinnamon rolls.
Relationships: OC/OC
Series: Eirwen and Lyri [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1645507
Kudos: 4





	1. In the Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eirwen lost her soul mate in the Dream, so close to awakening. Can she move on alone, or will Lyri's sacrifice come back to haunt her?

* * *

We began together, Lyri and I. In the Dream, we were the best of friends, as talkative as little human children, loving each other like only sylvari could. 

It was a cruel twist of fate that tore us apart. The shadow of an elder dragon attacked us as we prepared to awaken. I vanquished the dragon - but Lyri fell, her life not yet even begun. She was choked by the monster’s roots as she ensured I could strike a killing blow.

I wish I could say that my earliest memories are my most painful, but it’s been a long time, and I’ve lost so many along the way. This, to me, was only the beginning.

* * *

_Eirwen runs her fingers through the mass of golden vines on my head. I embrace her back as we walk together through the colorful, flowering jungle. We both feel it - the call to wake up. It is time._

_But we feel something else, too. Something is wrong._

_A faint image appears in front of us, across a shining stream - another sylvari. Her bark is pale green, much lighter than my own, and her verdant hair is made of cattails._

_She calls out to us in a wise but worried voice. “Hello? Yes - I’m here! Can you see me?”_

_Eirwen is the first to question her. “Who are you?”_

_“I am Caithe. I need your help. Can you hear me where you are, within the Dream?”_

_“Within the Dream? What does that mean?” I ask, bewildered. “Why do you look transparent?”_

_“I am in Tyria, a land far away. Soon, you’ll awaken there, but for now you live in the Dream.” She pauses, perhaps to make sure her words are entirely true. “I can’t explain right now. We must hurry. Something is poisoning the Dream.”_

_“Poisoning the Dream?” I don’t hesitate. “Of course. We’ll do whatever we can to help you. But why us?”_

_Caithe reassures us. “Your spirit is strong. Do not underestimate yourself.”_

_It isn’t long before we see the poison for ourselves. We pass… we pass a nightmare. We see death for the first time, and evil beasts that must be twisted versions of my own pet fern hound._

_Eirwen becomes more and more concerned as we walk down this dark path. “Are you sure we can do this? I’ve never seen anything like this.”_

_Caithe responds after a long silence. “Yes. I know it looks grim, but you must press on. Our future is in your hands.”_

_Eirwen’s bark is already white, but it seems to go paler with each corpse we see. We cut down dozens of the corrupted creatures in our way. At last, we reach the source of the terror in a wide clearing._

_An enormous dragon, covered in trees and leaves, is pulling its massive body out of the earth. Its body is made of vines, and multicolored energy shines through the gaps between them: crimson, golden, and emerald. It opens its mouth, and exhales moss-green… fire? I don’t think that’s fire._

_Caithe takes physical form in front of us to help us as best she can. Eirwen slices its lashing vines, and I aim my arrows at its glowing eyes. There are dozens of other sylvari with us, but we lose dozens more._

_At last, the dragon reels, but there is no end in sight. We are all losing focus, and so many of us are injured. But Eirwen-_

_“Lyri. Stay down here and try to keep me alive. I’m going for its throat.”_

_“Eirwen, no! Even with my magic, you’ll die up there!”_

_“I have to do this.”_

_“But-”_

_She walks away. I have no choice._

_I channel a beam of healing light toward her as she throws a vine and grapples up to the dragon’s back. It thrashes violently, but she holds on for dear life. I can’t do this for much longer._

_She approaches its neck, but I am spent._

_I collapse - and tendrils surge from the ground beneath me. The dragon knows I’m weak. Maybe someone can-_

_“LYRI!”_

_I can’t move, or breathe. The last thing I see is the dragon’s death throes. The last thing I hear is Eirwen’s voice calling for me._

_Then my world fades, and I’m at peace._

* * *

It was only after I awoke that I learned where I’d been and what had happened. The Dream is where we sylvari learn our purposes and the ways of life before going out into the world. Rarely, a sylvari is given a Wyld Hunt as they awaken, a quest that they must try their best to accomplish once they’re out in the world. Lyri and I both received Wyld Hunts - an elder dragon for each of us to slay. But without my partner, the seemingly impossible burden was mine alone to bear. 

Most saplings spend their time in the Grove learning more about the world before they go out into it. But losing Lyri shook me to the core, and I spent most of my time mourning. This wasn’t supposed to happen, but I felt like I’d lost half of myself. I vowed I’d avenge Lyri, and it was that grief that kept me going as I left to wander the rest of the world, to perhaps do great things someday.

Well, I _did_ do great things. I finished my own Wyld Hunt, slaying Zhaitan to the roar of Pact cannons. For the first time, it looked like we could defeat the elder dragons that had ravaged Tyria for centuries. I left it to another to kill Scarlet Briar, the mad sylvari gunner, but I helped the proud city of Lion’s Arch rebuild from the destruction she wrought.

I figured I’d recovered from that grief by the time Mordremoth attacked the Grove. I was wrong. Every time I came back after that day, I thought I saw her, or someone who looked like her. Just in brief glimpses, yet every time, the memories still stung...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes for newbies: Sylvari all grow from a single tree, the Pale Tree, which has gradually become surrounded by an organic city of roots, vines, and petals called the Grove. Before awakening, fully grown and able to walk and talk, they spend some time in an otherworld called the Dream. After awakening, they still receive guidance from the Pale Tree - if they want. (Some certainly do not.) The sylvari are very young as a race, with the eldest only being 23 years old when Eirwen awakens, and are unable to reproduce (but since they are modeled after humans, they tend to have similar enough anatomy to do... erm, many of the same things).


	2. It Was Only a Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lyri's memories - like every sylvari's - stayed in the Dream, so unbeknownst to Eirwen, the Pale Tree has used them to recreate her. However, Mordremoth gets in the way, and this second incarnation is among the first sylvari to be born with a disability because she was forced out too early by its attack on the Grove. Lyri is coddled far more than she would like as a result.
> 
> Eirwen's story continues as she carves a path through Elona, even conquering death itself - until tragedy stops her in her tracks.

* * *

_Why is everything dark?_

__

_ Just moments ago, I was in the Dream, and it was daytime. Then it was rocked by a terrible, familiar evil. Familiar… but I don’t know why. My mind flashes through memories that I don’t think are mine. I don’t know whose they are, but I remember gasping for air as the world went dark around me. _

_ A voice calls out to me, shaking me out of my confusion. “Sapling… Can you hear me? It’s okay! You can breathe. Can you- oh, no. The dragon… you’ve come out too early. Your face… I… What’s your name?” _

_ “Lyri.” _

_ I put one hand on my face. It’s a mess of scars, lumps, and ridges - nothing like how it looked in the Dream, or in my memories. I can barely distinguish my own features. I try to blink out of habit, but there’s nothing there that can move; only two deep gouges with nothing inside. _

_ The voice is talking to me again. “We need to keep you in the Grove. There may be ways we can help you, but… I don’t think you’ll be able to leave. I’m sorry.” _

_ “Wait,” I say. “I… remember someone. I could see then. She was all white, with a gentle blue glow. She was my best friend. My dearheart.” _

_ “That sounds like the Pact Commander. Eirwen.” _

_ Yes. Eirwen. _

_ “I remember when she awoke, angry and grieving. You… you share a name with her beloved. And her memories.” _

_ My mind becomes a river again, and this time I know who I was. _

_ “The Commander was just here, but then Mordremoth attacked us - that’s what forced you out of the Dream. The Pale Tree is unconscious now. Eirwen is in the jungle. It’s too dangerous for you, and… and you’re blind.” _

_ I protest. “I can see some things, but…” _

_ “Not enough to keep you from tripping over a root.” _

* * *

Two years after I lost Lyri, I finally learned the horrible truth. The thing that had killed my partner was our race’s grandfather, the elder dragon Mordremoth. The Pale Tree was to be its minion, but her caretakers raised her with pure hearts, and she gained her own will. Mordremoth resented this, and had now gathered the strength to grievously injure her on the physical plane. So it was that a double-headed serpent of revenge - for Lyri, and for our mother - brought me to the jungle. 

The overconfident Pact fleet went down over Maguuma, ensnared by the dragon’s colossal vines. Hundreds, perhaps thousands, of sylvari were called to obey its will. Yet the survivors held on, and blazed a trail through the hostile wilderness. My companions and I reached the fiend’s doorstep a month later, despite the weight on our minds that now affected even the non-sylvari. Killing Mordremoth could have killed all of us, and its will nearly broke me. But I won -  _ we _ won, and no one else would suffer Lyri’s fate. 

One little thing kept me going: a crystal dragon egg, kept safe in my pack. The birth of Aurene, daughter of Glint, was a little pinprick of light in a haze of necessary evil. I adored the little creature, and it seems the feeling was mutual. Technically I was only her champion, but often, I felt more like her mother - though to a sylvari, that's an unfamiliar feeling. Fortunately, unlike a cranky infant, Aurene gave me a wonderful sort of peace, one that I hadn’t felt since I was in the Dream. 

And she gave me glittering wings, ephemeral things emanating from my shoulder blades. To me, those are still the most comforting reminder that she’s here for me.

I felled the leader of the White Mantle not long after Aurene hatched, and the last mursaat all too quickly after that. The next year, in the heat of autumn, I traveled to the desert of Elona to confront yet another growing threat. Yet I fought in vain; the humans’ rogue war god killed me on a rocky clifftop, high above the Elon River. His massive sword shattered my body so thoroughly that I couldn’t return to the Dream like other fallen sylvari. I was forced into the Domain of the Lost, a distant pocket of the Mists, where I fought my way back to life to return the favor. Aurene grew into a rebellious teenager, but for her part, she helped me finish off Balthazar at Kodash Bazaar - and the next summer, she devoured a  _ certain  _ particularly troublesome lich that would probably have made me into one of his shambling zombies.

All that was left was to finish off Kralkatorrik, the crystal elder dragon - and, in a chilling reminder of Mordremoth, Aurene’s grandfather. Killing him had been Lyri’s Wyld Hunt. I had to end this, for her sake, but I’d made him impossibly powerful by letting the magic of two other elder dragons and a god flow into him. What’s more, Aurene showed me troubling visions as the battle drew closer. No matter how hard we tried, she knew she would die - and we could all die with her. It took us so long to get to the damned thing, but at last, four exhausting years after Mordremoth, I was so, so close. And then -

* * *

“She’s gone.”

We’ve… we’ve lost. Aurene is trapped in a Brand crystal, just as she showed us all, and for the first time, my connection to her is… dead. My wings have disintegrated, and all I feel is a deep sadness. There’s something missing; perhaps I used the little dragon to fill the void.

It takes me too long to realize that that missing piece is Lyri.

I go home to the Grove, for the first time in months and maybe the second time since Balthazar. The rest of Dragon’s Watch stays behind, to try to free Aurene’s body from the crystal and prepare her for burial.

Once again, I see Lyri everywhere, amidst the spiraling roads and colorful huts that have grown around the Pale Tree. Maybe it’s still just someone who looks like her. But whoever that sylvari is, she’s practically surrounded by menders. I don’t have a chance. I should leave.

My friends need my help anyway; they can’t get Aurene out. I return to Thunderhead Keep, and release a burst of magic, and… 

the crystal explodes, and suddenly she is alive - thanks to  _ that lich _ she ate, so praise Joko?! - and she is  _ talking!!, _ and she’s telling me we need to chase Kralkatorrik,

and my shoulders itch as my wings reform, 

and then I’m on her back, and we’re flying into the Mists, trying to stop Kralkatorrik from consuming the otherworld whole,

and then Aurene lands that perfect burst of dragonfire onto her grandfather’s wing, and we make a portal so he plummets back into Tyria,

and then the crystal dragon is falling, one wing broken, until he is an island in the ocean… and we’re on it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes for newbies: Aurene is the granddaughter of the crystal elder dragon Kralkatorrik. Her mother, Glint, was once a minion of Kralkatorrik, but was purified by a race of powerful mages called the Forgotten. Glint aided Tyria in its struggle against the Elder Dragons until she was killed trying to defeat her father, six years before GW2's timeline. Before her death, she spoke a series of prophecies that have now come true. She left behind two eggs to the Exalted, who carry the torch of the extinct Forgotten and protect a magical golden city in the middle of the Maguuma jungle. One of these eggs was nurtured by the player character and hatched into Aurene.
> 
> Aurene may be something of a Jesus Dragon because eating a comic-book-villain lich gave her the ability to resurrect, but she's still the playerbase's baby and I love her to bits.


	3. Freedom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lyri finally gains the courage to stand up to her caretakers and leave the Grove.

* * *

_ I’m four years old now, and I haven’t left the Grove. I feel trapped. Frustrated. It’s like they’ve never seen anyone like me before. The Pale Tree is better now, but the menders continue to watch my every damned step. My Wyld Hunt has been calling me for so long. I’ve kept it hidden, but I need to tell them now. I told them I could hear Ventari’s voice, the voice of the centaur who helped raise the Mother Tree, and it took them so long to realize why and teach me to commune with his power. Perhaps they’ll understand this better. _

_ “I just saw Eirwen. I need to find her, and I need to kill Kralkatorrik.” _

_ “Yes, she was here again. But she has her own business. Aurene just died, the little dragon we thought held the key to defeating Kralkatorrik. We’re not sure how long this world has left.” _

_ “I need to go. It’s my Wyld Hunt!” _

_ “I… I can’t deny that. Just… don’t come crying back to us when you trip and fall in Astorea.” _

_ “Ventari will help me. I’ll be fine. Take me to the asura gate to Lion’s Arch.” _

_ I step through, and just like I promised, Ventari speaks to me. He carries me with his strength, swiftness, and vision. I remain blind, aside from the occasional glow of magic, but it’s not long before I realize I’m at a port. I feel the sea breeze, and a warmth near me - I must be right in front of an attendant, or something. _

_ “I need passage to Dragonfall. I have to find the Commander. For… for all intents and purposes, I’m one of the Crystal Bloom.” I don’t know where those words came from, or what they mean, but they work. _

_ “You don’t look like one, but I’ll take your word for it. The next military airship for Dragonfall departs in three hours. I should be able to fit you in with the Pact convoy. Be careful out there.” _

* * *

_ We arrive the next morning, and suddenly, I can see again. _

_ The area glows with violet energy. I can see the enormous body of a dragon. MY dragon. I’m close. Too close. Pillars of light shine from its body - wounds? And there’s a charr talking to me, now. She is less magical, and I can barely make her out.  _

_ “What brings you here, revenant? You look a little confused for someone who came into a war zone on a Pact ship.” _

_ “I need to find the commander.” _

_ “Commander Eirwen is in the fray. You don’t look too suspicious, so I’ll take your word for it. Can you see anything with that blindfold on?” _

_ “Yes. So much magic… I’ll be fine.” _

_ “I’ll have another sylvari escort you through. I’ve seen some like you - you look like you’d make a fine healer. I’m General Soulkeeper, by the way.” The charr stretches out her paw. _

_ I can hardly see it, but I manage a handshake. “Lyri.”  _

_ “Now move out. I hope you find who you’re looking for.” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes for newbies: Blind people in Tyria, whether they've been blind from birth, went blind, or are simply blindfolded, can see magic traces. I imagine that in the presence of a magic-eating and -emanating elder dragon, it would be a lot easier to see - in a sense, anyway.


	4. Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eirwen fights her way to Kralkatorrik alone, but her past has now caught up to her. Lyri has finally made it to Dragonfall, just in time to find her dearheart and complete her Wyld Hunt.

* * *

I’m with a Pact squad, furiously attacking a crystalline wound on Kralkatorrik’s fallen body, when I see Lyri. Again.

No. It can’t be. Just another ghost of the past.

_I walk towards a group of soldiers, silhouettes in the light of Kralkatorrik’s magic. I think they’re fighting its iridescent minions. One of them… is glowing a radiant white._

_I’ve finally found her._

“Ugh, is that just another one of Kralkatorrik’s tricks? Hold on. Let’s break this wound open and I’ll investigate.”

_I come closer, and call out to her. “Eirwen?”_

I stab a dragonsblood spear into the wound, and it gushes with magic. There really is a green sylvari approaching me, walking toward the dragon’s flank. And that really is her voice.

“Lyri…? Is that you?”

_“Eirwen!”_

By the Tree...

Now I’m running, and she’s running, and we’re together again, in each other’s arms like there’s no tomorrow. I look into her- wait, she’s blindfolded… 

_Eirwen reaches around my head, and unties my blindfold. She holds it in one hand, and looks at me. She doesn’t say a word. Her eyes widen._

The poor thing. She’s nearly unrecognizable, but… it’s definitely Lyri. I almost start crying as I wrap her in a hug. 

_“Don’t mind… all this,” I reassure Eirwen as she rests her head on my shoulders. “I can see you, and… you’re the brightest and most beautiful thing in my world.”_

_She lifts her head and looks into... where my eyes would_ _be._

“And you, Lyri, are still the loveliest thing I’ve ever seen. I hope you can fight. Let’s finish this.”

And we walk into the wound in the dragon’s side.


	5. Ascension

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eirwen can finally defeat the bane of Destiny's Edge now that she has Lyri by her side. With the pair together, and Lyri's Wyld Hunt and Eirwen's personal vendetta both complete, there's only one thing left to do.

* * *

_For the first time since I awakened in darkness, I can see all the colors around me. We fight back hordes of shining purple Branded. Eirwen’s magic is a soft blue, just how I remember it. Mine is the same gold as her armor. And Aurene walks in front of us, all turquoise with little spikes of lilac down her back._

_Eirwen introduces her party to me as we walk into the cave. A charr named Rytlock, who shines with a similar magic to mine. A human named Zafirah, who carries an aura of shadow magic. An asura named Taimi, who isn’t with us in person, but is chatting with us via a small communicator device. And… Caithe. It’s been so long. It’s wonderful to meet her in real life. She’s changed, though; she is no longer green, but a deep indigo, and she’s encrusted in crystals that I suppose are Aurene’s._

_“What is…” Rytlock asks from behind me._

_“His heartbeat.” That’s Aurene’s voice._

_“It’s faster than you’d imagine,” remarks Caithe._

_“They’re pummeling him from above,” says Zafirah. “He’s in distress.”_

_“Still got some fight in him though,” quips Rytlock._

_Zafirah replies: “A wounded beast is the most dangerous.”_

* * *

We're finally here, deep inside the dragon’s body. Aurene seals the ley lines keeping Kralkatorrik alive as we fight off Branded. Suddenly, there’s an earthquake as we finish. Is Kralkatorrik… 

Taimi’s voice crackles in. “Commander! He... I mean, his body...it's dead. But...there's a source of power still inside him. Doing more damage out here doesn't affect it.”

“We can't kill him,” Aurene responds, sounding sorrowful. “Not from outside.”

Oh, great. “You're saying...we need to go in.”

“There's no other way.”

Rytlock is clearly confused. “What? Through his mouth?”

Aurene wordlessly walks to the ledge in front of us. 

_And I feel her power, too. She turns to me, and speaks to both of us._

_“I’m not sure if I can hold both of you. Lyri, I bonded with Eirwen and Caithe. But Eirwen told me, a long time ago… this is your fight too. Your Wyld Hunt. So I will try.”_

I need to make arrangements in case this goes wrong. Again. “Rytlock, listen… Dragon’s Watch…”

Rytlock interrupts me. _“Shut up._ You are _all_ coming back.”

“Aurene,” says Caithe. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” says the dragon, before carrying me and Lyri into the unknown.

* * *

_“It’s so… beautiful! And quiet.” Aurene’s voice echoes through Kralkatorrik’s body._

_I can sense that I’m surrounded by an unimaginable power. The feeling is... awe-inspiring._

Kralkatorrik is speaking, to Aurene specifically. I didn’t know he could do that. _No one_ knew he could do that. If Lyri had eyes, they’d be enormous right now. She just… has that look on her face. 

Kralkatorrik’s heart stands before us. He makes a bridge of crystal toward it. He _wants_ us here. Something inside him doesn’t.

We race along islands of magic, quelling all the energy he’s absorbed over the past decade and a half. It’s been condensed into avatars of my past, of all the enemies I’ve defeated, whose magic made the dragon stronger. Balthazar, Mordremoth, Zhaitan. Lyri’s magic keeps me strong. Where did she learn this? I realize quickly that her strength comes from the Mists, channeling power from Ventari and - to my surprise and joy - Aurene’s mother, Glint.

Kralkatorrik talks to himself as we approach: one side furious and vengeful, the other… suicidal?

**“THESE CREATURES MAKE YOU WEAK! - They are her strength.”**

**“SHE BETRAYS HER OWN KIND! - She is the first of her kind.”**

At last, we reach the center, perhaps the nadir. 

**“You have laid me bare. The pain… is ebbing.”**

“I'm sorry it has to be this way, Grandfather.” Aurene sounds like she could cry. Do dragons cry? 

**“Child of my child… I only hope that you never have to kill what you love.”**

We all pause, and reflect on those words. It seems so long ago that I had to run the very first sylvari through with his own sword, to put an end to Mordremoth once and for all.

**“Now, mortal… return my blood to my heart.”**

“Aurene?” I make sure she's ready.

“Do it.”

_She’s terrified. The poor thing._

Lyri and I both hold _the_ spear, the one the Zephyrites reforged from the elder dragon’s blood, and together, we pierce Kralkatorrik’s heart.

**“MOTHER!...”**

A vision flashes before all of us as Aurene speaks. “My grandfather’s prophecy is fulfilled. My mother’s legacy is complete. I can’t explain what’s about to happen, Champion… but I want to share it with you.”

She absorbs the magic pouring from the crystal dragon’s heart, and surrounds me with a vision of Tarir, the golden city, where I raised her among the Exalted and purified her of any evil.

She walks up to me, and I put my hand on her forehead, one last time. Then she backs away, and lifts into the air.

“…All of you.”

And Aurene ascends.

Nearly blinded by her light, I look down at the scar on my chest, the grisly reminder of my time in the Domain of the Lost. Wait - what scar? It’s gone, replaced by a trail of glittering crystals. She’s… she’s healed me! There’s only a patch of faded, ash-grey bark in its wake. 

There’s so much I want to say to her, and it only starts with gratitude. Instead, breathless from the spectacle, I just have to ask: “Lyri, are you seeing this?!”

_“Yes, Eirwen. It’s gorgeous. Not as much as you, but still.”_

* * *

The light show fades as Aurene flies like a shooting star into the sky, and we return to the airship that took me to the island. Soon, we’ll all be home, and celebrating our victory.

“So… tell me, dearheart, how did you get here?”

_“I could ask you the same. It’s a long story.” I should…_

“Wait. Don’t tell me yet.” For now, I’d rather just…

_...kiss her._

__


End file.
